


Troublesome Women

by journeycat



Series: The Cavall Clan [4]
Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wyldon deals with headstrong women...and fails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Troublesome Women

**Author's Note:**

> Written for One Night Stand Weekend at Goldenlake in April 2010.

The puppies yipped excitedly as Wyldon entered the stables, stumbling over each other in their hurry to get to him. In an abandoned stable box, their old mother kept an eye on them, but she trusted him to keep her offspring safe. Unlike his well-bred hounds, these pups were not kept in the kennels; they were descendants of his wife’s favorite loyal dog, bred strictly as faithful companions, and they would not be sold for hunting purposes.

He knelt on the ground, wincing at the pain in his knee. The puppies were ugly, cheerful mutts, and they frantically licked his hands and pawed hopefully at his legs. He chuckled, fondly patting their heads.

“Papa!”

Startled, Wyldon turned and was halfway up when something small hurtled itself into his belly. He grunted and stumbled, but managed to keep his balance.

“Gaheris,” he said, exasperated. “What have I told you about tackling people?”

Undaunted, his youngest son grinned up at him. At four, there was little that could deter him. Wyldon hefted him up and settled him on his arm.

“Now then,” he said, “can you calmly tell me what’s got you so excited?”

Gaheris wiggled his toes— _damn it all, why does he keep losing his boots?_ Wyldon wondered irritably—and burst out, “Mama said Isa can try for her shell!”

Wyldon blinked. “Her shell?”

The boy nodded vigorously. “So she can fight bad men like you and Mama!”

“Do you mean her _shield?_ ”

“That’s what I said.”

He nearly dropped his son. He gaped stupidly at him as Gaheris wiggled out of his grasp and dived into the puddle of puppies. Isolde, trying for her shield? His daughter, out there fighting bandits and putting her tender life in danger? She was only eleven, by Mithros. She didn’t know what she was saying, and neither did Keladry, if she was going to let her go and, and—

“I’m going to have to stop this,” Wyldon muttered.

“Why?”

He had forgotten Gaheris was there. “It’s too dangerous for Isolde. She’ll get killed.”

The boy shrugged. “Mama does it.”

“She’s a grownup.”

“Isa’s almost a grownup, ain’t she?”

“‘Isn’t she,’ Gaheris,” Wyldon said. “You know better.”

“Yes, Papa,” he said dejectedly.

But it set Wyldon to thinking, and he was suddenly picturing Keladry’s face if he took that argument to her. She’d tear him to shreds. _I started page training a year earlier_ , she would say, her hands on her hips, _and I did just fine. You let Lance and Cal try for their shields, so what makes Isa any different? Is it because she’s a girl?_

He cringed. Part of him thought, _Yes, it’s because she’s a girl_ , but that didn’t sound right at all. Lady knights were a common occurrence now, and they didn’t die any harder or faster than another knight. So what made Isolde any different?

Because she was _his_ girl, and he didn’t want to let go of those days when she picked flowers for him and kept herself safe at Cavall. He had four lady-daughters, neatly married off with families of their own. He had reckoned with rowdy sons, but a rowdy daughter who used a glaive as well as her mother was not something for which he had accounted.

“Oh, curse it all,” Wyldon sighed, rubbing his brow irritably. “Women are such trouble. And don’t you dare tell your mother I said that.”


End file.
